by Kilted Wookie
The pressure mounts. As it always does, her mouth works its magic. Her tongue coats my shaft with a warm film of saliva, her lips glide along my length.
“Ahhh! Good girl!” I sigh as she takes me deep; the head of my cock lodging in the back of her throat. She knows what I like. Experience has taught her to read my body’s signs; that language of arousal and desire in which she is so fluent.
My breathing quickens as her tongue flicks over the engorged head. “Yessss,” I hiss from between clenched teeth.
Up and down, her lips travel. My cock, sensitised by her attention, can so easily distinguish the difference between the temperature of the air, and the warm of her mouth as her lips move back and forth.
She knows what I like. She knows what my cock likes. She knows just what it takes to bring me to the brink and not boil over; to keep me simmering, to extend my pleasure.
I enjoy her mouth. My cock enjoys her mouth. She assures me that her mouth enjoys my cock.
And still the pressure mounts; building inexorably inside me.
That look in her eye tells me she can taste me; my pre-cum. It’s a look I know so well; a look of hunger and of supplication. It is both a statement and a request.
She sucks harder…
The need for release intensifies.
Her lips tighten their grip. She draws me in deeper.
Again she catches my eye; that unspoken request now even stronger.
I sigh. I cannot deprive her. “You may continue,” I say softly, “You have earned it.”
She sets about her task. Slowly at first but gradually increasing her pace. Sucking me hard as she draws me in; never breaking the seal of her lips around my shaft.
In these final sweet, agonising moments, I am completely powerless, completely under her spell, the spell of her mouth. The tables have turned, she is now the one in control.
She knows what to do, she knows exactly what it takes, how long I can hold on.
My thighs tighten. I clench my teeth. Her tongue teases. Her lips hold me tight.
And then, release; I can neither resist nor deny her any more.
I come hard. Her mouth receives my offering which she hungrily accepts as her own. The tension flows from my body along with my essence as she takes her fill of me.
At last I am finished; she is finished. I hold her to me, stroking her hair.
“Thank you,” I breathe, “Thank you, little one.”
©Kilted Wookie May 2018